The Razors Edge
by Jack Cross
Summary: Han is a young hunter on a quest for answers. Korra is a slave girl looking for her father. The only thing that stands between them and their goals is the Phoenix Empire. Their chances are slim, right? Not according to the masked revolutionary named Amon.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys, I'm here with the remastered edition of Edge of a Revolution. A few notes about this: first off, despite the similarities this is not a crossover with Marvel or DC or any kind of vigilante archer real or fictional. Sure there are a few names here and there, but they're just that, similarities. Secondly, as will be made clear shortly, this story is set in an AU where the Fire Nation won the Hundred Year War, so keep that in mind. With that, let's get on with it:**

 **I do not own Legend of Korra.**

 _The world is not_ _as it should be._

 _It's been a hundred and seventy years since the Fire Nation began it's quest for a global empire. That dream became a reality with the fall of Ba Sing Se and the death of Avatar Aang at the hands of Fire Princess Azula. Despite a few setbacks and a few holdouts, the world is now dominated by a superstate known as the Phoenix Empire._

 _It's been seventy years since the Empire came into existence. Many of those who live under its rule are unhappy, but content, having never known anything else. Then, there are those who would defy their rulers. After seventy years, the Empire stands on the edge of Revolution._

 _The world is not as it should be, but there are those who seek to make it right._

 _**Libertalia. Southern Coast.**_

Han looked down over the floating patchwork of wooden buildings in the gloom of the half moon hanging high above his head. He held his recurve bow at the ready, waiting for his signal to move. In the square below him was a line of people of Water Tribe origin standing on a stage, all of them bound in chains. Several people in a crowd were shouting bids to an auctioneer, who continued to raise the price with each bid.

Despite what it's name suggested, Libertalia was anything but a place of freedom. In fact, it was home to one of the largest slave markets in the Empire. It didn't matter where the slaves came from; one of the Water Tribes, the remnants of the Earth Kingdom huddled along the eastern coast of the continent, or even the Foggy Swamp. Sooner or later, a slave was bound to pass through this place.

The rundown nature of the town could also be attributed to the market as well. According to Imperial records, Libertalia nor it's slave market didn't actually exist. The town was actually little more then a junk buildings and shipwrecks stacked on top of each other that someone had decided to start selling slaves in one day. Corruption in the local governing body insured that it stayed that way, dedicating more to profit then to lively hood improvement.

Truth was, the mighty Phoenix Queen didn't concern herself with the daily on goings of her Empire anymore. She was well into her twilight years, and in fact hadn't actually made a public appearance in a few. Some people questioned if she was even still alive, although in a private setting so as not to draw the wrath of the state down upon them. So a place like Libertalia was allowed to continue to exist, despite any potential repercussions it may have had on the Empire.

Han continued to study both the crowd and the line of slaves at action with a keen eye. His partner was down there, somewhere, and he needed to be ready to play his part. The young man, aged about nineteen or so with black hair, green eyes, and a fair complexion, came from a small farm in a river valley in the heart of the Empire. His father, along with several other farmers in the area had been protesting against a raise in grain payouts by refusing to pay their taxes.

He had come home from a hunting trip to find his and several other farms in the valley burned to the ground by a detachment of Imperial soldiers. The troops had dragged his father and brother into the square of the nearby village, beaten them, and then crucified them as examples for all who would dare to defy Imperial rule. His mother and sister were no where to be found, most likely having been sold off into slavery.

Han had given up on trying to find them long ago. Once someone entered the system, the likelihood of a commoner being able to track them down was impossible. There were simply too many places to send them, too many positions to be filled. He could spend the rest of his life looking and still be no closer to finding them then the day he had started.

The reason Han was here was for revenge. His mother and sister may have been impossible for him to find, but the man responsible wasn't. He'd tracked the commander of the company of soldiers responsible across most of the Empire before finally the trail led here to Libertalia.

While here, he had met a young woman, a little older then him, hiding amongst the slaves. She went by the name of Nat, insisting that it was short for something although she never said what it was. Nat was an agent for the Earth Kingdom, here to assassinate the man who oversaw the entire market. Seeing a mutually beneficial situation, the two had created a temporary partnership in order to achieve what they wanted.

 _"Good luck, Hawkeye. Watch for my signal."_ Those had been the last words Nat had said to him before vanishing into the night, despite the fact that he had no idea what the signal was suppose to be. As for the nickname, she had given it to him when she'd noticed both his talent with the bow, and his knack for noticing little details no one else did. He kinda liked the nickname, feeling that it suited him.

So here he was, perched on a rooftop in the shadows of the night, looking down over the torch lit square. He'd taken the precaution of silencing the few guards that had been stationed on the rooftops to overlook the action. He didn't kill them. They were just local guys on a payroll trying to make a living, even if that living involved slavery.

"Come on, this group is excellent stock, fresh from the South! Do I hear twenty thousand?" the auctioneer yelled. Someone from the crowd answered with a bid, prompting the auctioneer to raise the price to twenty five thousand. Han looked over the line of people in chains, five men and five women, all wearing brown rags and standing side by side looking solemn. There was even a little girl of about seven or eight among them. He fought the urge to raise his bow and send an arrow through the man's windpipe.

Even if he killed the auctioneer, which was a fairly easy and tempting shot from where he was standing, what good would it have accomplished? Sure he'd be dead, but the slaves would be no where even close to being free, and his cover would have been blown. The smart move was to wait and watch like his part of the plan said.

"Thirty thousand!"

"Thirty thousand, do I hear thirty five?"

"Thirty Five!"

"Thirty Five, do I hear Forty thousand?" A dull murmur fell over the crowd as no one was willing to raise the bid again.

"Thirty five thousand going once! Twice! So..."

 _WHOOM!_

The explosion tore through the square, decimating the crowd and the slave line up indiscriminately. Han was knocked backwards by the shock wave before he was blasted with heat. The sudden flare of light left him temporary blinded, and the momentum sent him tumbling down the roof and smashing onto a balcony over looking a canal a few floors below.

He lay there for what felt like an eternity, stunned being the least of how he felt. No where in their plan had explosives been called for. Pulling himself to his feet, Han climbed back up to his original perch, although he moved at a much slower pace this time considering he'd shattered a small table with his ungraceful landing.

The square was aglow with several of the surrounding buildings now being on fire. Along with the crackle of the flames were the screams of the terrified, and the agonized cries of the wounded and dying. The stage where the slaves had been standing was gone, erased from existence. There wasn't a doubt that every last person who had been standing on that platform was dead.

Against his better judgment, Han found himself heading toward the ground to try and help where he could. Logic told him to run, put as much distance between himself and what had just happened. The local garrison would be all over this in no time, and if they caught him here with his bow, he'd be accused of the crime in an instant. His heart, his mind, his entire being told him to run toward the flames, to save what innocents he could.

There was almost no one to save. The closer he got to the center of the blast, the fewer survivors there were. The ones he did find were already on the verge of death, and the only thing he could do for them was insure that they were comfortable as they passed on into the afterlife.

"Hey, you! A little help?" Han was drawn to the sound of the voice coming from his left. It was a young woman, locked in a small cage in what had once been the storage area of the auction. Now the place was utterly demolished by the blast. The cage the young woman was in had several wooden beams that had come down on top of it. No doubt the means of her imprisonment had saved her life.

"You alright?" Han asked, frowning as he heard his own voice. His ears had been ringing since the explosion, but that had slowly faded away. Now everything sounded faint, like it was far off. Even his own voice sounded off.

"Peachy, all things considered," the young woman replied. Her voice sounded faint, and Han found that he had to rely on a combination of listening to her and reading her lips in order to understand what she was saying.

"I don't suppose you could find the key to this thing?" she asked. Han glanced up at the stack of timber laying on top of the cage. The fire from the buildings was starting to spread to the pile. In a few minutes, this young woman would be at the bottom of a rather large bonfire. Drawing an arrow, Han took aim and shot the padlock on the cage door. It didn't break the lock entirely, but it did knock it loose enough for him to stomp on it and break it entirely.

"Thank you," she said as the door swung open and she quickly climbed free of her captivity.

"Come on, the garrison will be here soon," he replied as he turned to run off into the night. A hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Wait, what's your name?" she asked.

"Han. You?

"Korra. I'm Korra."

"Nice to meet you, Korra. Now come on!" he said before taking her by the hand and leading her away from this hellscape. The two managed to avoid the incoming garrison and slipped back to the small inn where Han and Nat had set up their base of operations. As they went, the archer found that his hearing was slipping further and further. Whenever Korra asked a question, he'd have to be facing her and strain himself just to try and understand what she had said.

To make matters worse, it was evident that Nat was long gone. All of her stuff was missing, and there was a single note sitting on the table in the room. All the note did was leave him angrier and more confused then he had been, which was already a lot to say the least.

 _'Hawkeye,'_

 _'I'm sorry, but the mission comes first.'_

 _'-Nat'_

She'd used him as a means to an end, and she hadn't cared one bit about who got in the way of her goal. People were dead, innocent people, a little girl, all of them dead because Nat had wanted to kill one guy. Granted, Han had only wanted to kill one guy as well, but he wasn't willing to sacrifice others in order to see that goal fulfilled.

A tap on his shoulder caused him to return his attention to Korra. In the proper, yet dim light of the room he was able to get a good look at her for the first time. Her skin was a light mocha color, her eyes a cyan blue, and her dark hair was pulled back into a single pony tail which hung down her back. She was wearing the brown rags that all slaves wore, which was only a couple of shades darker then her skin.

There was a look of concern on her face. She waged her index finger back and forth a few times by her ear, and Han realized that she was asking about his hearing.

"What?" he asked. He could still hear himself speak just fine, but when Korra moved her lips to speak, little sound came out. It was like she was whispering everything under her breath, and he was struggling just to comprehend that she was speaking, much less what she was saying. Based on what he could decipher by reading her lips, she was asking if his hearing was alight.

"I think the blast did a number on me. Can you write?" he asked. Korra nodded in the affirmative. Han quickly grabbed a pin and turned Nat's note over before patting on the paper with his palm.

"Write down what you're saying so I can understand you," he instructed. Again, she nodded in the affirmative before picking up the pen. She quickly scribbled out a few sentences before handing him the paper.

'Mother was on platform during explosion, do you know who's responsible?'

"I'm sorry about your mom. Yeah, I know who did it. It's this Nat chick," he said, pointing to the original note. Korra took it and looked it over before scribbling again.

'Do you know where she's going?'

"That's a question both you and I would like to know the answer to." Korra sat the pen down and placed her hands on her head as she leaned forward onto the table. She looked like she was on the verge of tears. Han felt bad for her, but knew they didn't have much time. Nat had probably set it up so that he would take the fall for setting off the blast, and Korra was now an escaped slave. Neither one of them were safe in this town anymore.

Still, there was a question or two that needed to be addressed before anything could be done. Han gently tapped her on the shoulder in order to get her attention. He really didn't want to cause her anymore pain, but there was still information he needed before he could form a plan.

"Where's your dad?" he asked hesitantly. He didn't know if her father was out there free somewhere, or if he had been killed in one of the raids the Empire conducted on her homeland. Korra managed to get herself together enough so she could pen a response.

'We were separated. Overheard the traders say he was being sent to the games in Imperial City.' Han felt his blood run cold as he read the words she had written. The games she referred to were the gladiatorial games that were held all across the Empire. More often then not, if the Empire captured you in battle, your fate was the games in order to entertain the bloodthirsty masses.

The largest and most sought after of these games were held in Imperial City, a port which the Empire had built along the northwestern coast of the continent in its early days in order to quickly ship supplies and other values back to the homeland. It had grown into a virtual powerhouse since then, rivaling both Ba Sing Se and the Capital in size alone.

If Korra's father had been sent to the games, in Imperial City no less, that meant he had to have been a great warrior. Fighters who gained the amount of respect required to fight in Imperial City stood a chance of being noticed by royalty and then being sponsored. From what Han had heard, petty political squabbles often lead to the fighters being left bloodied and more often then not dead.

"What are you going to do now?" he asked. Korra looked down at the table, clearly exhausted both mentally and physically. She tiredly shrugged, not having a single clue of what she was going to do next. Han looked down at the note. He felt similar to her, unsure of what to do next, unsure of the future.

There was no point in looking for the commander anymore. Assuming he had survived the blast, he could have fled in any direction. The trail had gone cold. Then, Han thought about what he had seen in the square. All those mangled bodies, the blood of the innocent spilled just to kill one guy. Just like that, he had a purpose again, a new target to hunt.

Imperial City was the choke point, the heart of the Empire. Everything going between the continent and the homeland, trade, travel, you name it, it was all funneled thru that city. If half of what Nat had told him was true, at some point she'd have to go there. Of course, he had no way of knowing if anything she had told him was the truth. But still, Imperial City was better then nothing.

However, the city was a big place, and there was no way he would be able to investigate it all. Not by himself anyway. He looked at Korra again. There was a small tattoo on the inside of her left forearm, a circle with a swirl of wavy lines, the symbol of the Water Tribe. He'd seen the mark before, slavers often slapped it on slaves that were waterbenders. So the slave girl he'd saved tonight wasn't completely helpless.

"I have a proposition for you," he said, gaining her attention. She looked up at him curiously, despite the tears that still shinned in her eyes.

"Your father is in Imperial City, and quite possibly the woman who set off the bomb who killed your mother. If we work together, we stand a good chance of finding both," he said. Korra cocked her eyebrow at him before picking up the pen again.

'You want to go to Imperial City, just you and me?'

"A hunter and a slave girl against an Empire. What do you say?" Korra looked unsure about the whole thing.

'You really think we can find my dad?'

"There can't be that many Water Tribe fighters in the Arena," he said. Again, she sat in silence, although the look on her face made it clear she was debating the situation in her head.

'Oh why not?' she finally wrote.

 **And that it, the first installment of this newly remastered series. Hopefully you guys enjoyed it. What did you all think? Let me know, review, or leave a PM, feel free to ask as many questions as you want, and I'll see you all next time.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys, I'm back with a new chapter of this. It took a lot longer than I wanted to get this out namely with a slight case of writer's block and some other factors. But it's here now, so let's get on with the show:**

"All hail Phoenix Queen Azula, matron of the Empire!" a Fire Sage declared to the council room as the woman in question came walking in. Much had changed with Azula over the past seventy years. What had once been a beautiful and youthful face was now aged and hardened. Her black hair had faded into a dull gray. Despite her age, she walked upright and proud with her arms folded into the sleeves of her robes.

The council, which consisted of her highest ranking officials and Generals, all bowed before her as she came forward. It wasn't unwarranted, either. Not only did the woman before them rule almost all of the known world, she was a force of lethality in her own right despite her age.

"You may dispense with the pleasantries, gentlemen. I want to know what is going on with my Empire," she said, her voice and face clearly showing annoyance at the fact that she had to be bothered with these affairs. Though she was Phoenix Queen, she no longer actually stepped in to rule anymore. She had people for that. However her word was still law, and it overrode anyone else when she saw fit.

"Our forces have pushed east and taken a majority of the continent's eastern coast line. However we have stopped short of some of the port cities," a General reported.

"Excellent. Keep up the pressure, but do not crush them right out. I want those peasants to know that it is I who decides whether they live or die," Azula said.

"There has been some more reports of civil unrest coming from Imperial City," an adviser said. The Phoenix Queen simply waved her hand at this.

"There are always reports of unrest from the city, Adviser Chin. The peasants will calm down once this year's Games Season begins," she dismissed. The look of worry didn't leave the Adviser's face.

"Ordinarily, your highness, I would agree with you. However recent events must be taken into account," he said.

"You refer to the bombing in Libertalia," Azula stated.

"Yes, your grace. It can't be a coincidence that this new wave of unrest has begun at the same time as the largest Imperial slave market was attacked." Azula put her hand to her lips in thought. It was possible that Chin was just overreacting to coincidence. However, one did not reach a position of power such as hers without being paranoid and taking every precaution.

"Monitor the situation in the city closely. Should anything change, I want to know immediately," she ordered.

"By your word, your highness."

* * *

The catdeer bounded through the trees, it's paws crushing fallen leaves with light crunches as it went. It paused for a moment, bending it's head down to sniff some mushrooms growing at the base of a tree. A twig snapped, causing it to jerk it's head up and look in the direction of the noise while remaining on point, ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble. Before the catdeer could react, an arrow sailed through the trees and pierced it's side. The animal let out a wounded cry before taking a few steps and collapsing completely.

From the trees came Han, his bow clenched firmly in his left hand as he trotted up to his kill. He was wearing a brown poncho with it's hood up, trying to provide himself with some camouflage while he hunted. The young hunter did his work quickly, ensuring that his prey was dead before dislodging the arrow and setting about the task of skinning the creature and harvesting the meat. Pelts, antlers, and other things could be sold in the next village, or traded for supplies.

Korra appeared at his side, watching the road while he did his work. She was dressed similarly to him, although her clothing was a little more worn and ratty. A water skin rested on her right hip, and a machete was stuck through her belt on the left.

In the two weeks that had passed since they left Libertalia, the two had gotten to know each other. Han had gotten much better at reading lips, and they had developed a sort of pseudo sign language between the two of them should that fail. Despite Korra's best efforts, the young hunter's hearing was still shot.

During their travels north toward Imperial City, Han offered to teach Korra how to use the bow. The young woman declined, however, saying that she was a warrior who preferred a club or a blade. Materials to make bows weren't common in the Water Tribes, so their culture had never really integrated archery unlike the other nations. What the Tribes lacked in range, they more then made up for in the ferocity of their warriors.

According to Korra, it use to be that women were forbidden from taking up warrior positions. However with a threat like the Empire, things had changed. Now everyone was trained to fight so that when the time came, everyone could defend their home. Korra had been trained by her father since an early age, both to wield weapons and bend water.

Personally, Han felt a little better knowing this. Sure, he was an excellent hunter and a master of his bow, but his experience with the world beyond that of the valley where he had grown up was limited. While Korra had about as much experience that he had in dealings outside of her home, she had the advantage in the sense that she had been trained as a warrior.

Finishing with his task, Han gave Korra a single nod of his head and they set off. They didn't speak, but were content with the company the other offered. When you've lost everything, it's comforting to know that there is still someone at your side. As they walked, Han cast a sideways glance at his companion. Despite her tough exterior, she still retained an aura of feminine beauty. She was the embodiment of the term kicking ass and looking good.

Did he find her attractive? Of course. But his attraction didn't go beyond that of the hormonal rumblings that tended to plague a young adult of his age. Sure he'd gotten use to being around her for the past couple of weeks, but there wasn't much there for anything beyond that of a friendship. Besides, he'd seen her eying some of the courtesans when they had passed through the last large town, so he wasn't sure she even found him remotely appealing.

As they came to the top of a small hill, they stopped and took in the view below them. The road led down the hillside to a small, stone walled village. A river wound its way near the village before twisting away like a large snake. Several trees were orange and red in color as their leaves turned with the season.

Entering the village, the duo found that despite its small size, the place was bussling with activity. Farmers moved wagons of their crop or led a few heads of their livestock along with a rope. Merchants shouted out their wares from small tents or a mat that had just been thrown down alongside a wall.

Finding a merchant who was willing to barter was easy enough and Han began the process of trading what he had taken from the catdeer for supplies they needed. While the hunter haggled, Korra stood off to the side, her arms folded as she tapped her fingers impatiently. She didn't like waiting, never had her whole life. Of course, there was much more at risk now.

She was an escaped slave. The Empire didn't look kindly upon escaped slaves. Very few recaptured slaves survived the ordeal unscathed. The punishments were harsh enough that fewer still were recaptured alive, preferring death to the alternative. Korra knew the risks, and knew what was at stake. To her, all of that was worth it if it meant she could find her father. What she was going to do once she did find him, that was still undecided.

A tap on her shoulder brought her out of her thoughts. Han was making a few motions with his hands, asking her to step in and speak for him. Apparently, his bartering wasn't going anywhere because the two parties were having a hard time understanding each other. With her meditating, the deal was quickly concluded and they walked away with a decent purse filled with silver.

'Smooth sailing to Imperial City now,' he signed. She smiled in response.

"Hey, you, travellers!" Korra stopped and turned toward the new voice, placing her hand on Han's shoulder in the process. Soldiers, a small four man patrol. All of them lightly armed and armored.

"You need to pay the visitor's tax," the soldier that had spoken up said.

"Visitor's tax?" Korra asked.

"Yes, it's a tax we charge visitors, now pay up." She looked at her companion who looked back at her with a curious expression. Moving her hands, she signed to him what was going on. Upon realizing what was happening, Han blinked before his face fell into a scowl. He shook his head before gesturing toward the gate, indicating that they were leaving.

"We're not paying. We're leaving town," Korra said out loud before they started toward the gate.

"It doesn't matter, you two need to pay," the soldier said. Han looked at him, raising his fist and shaking it up and down a few times in the air before raising his middle finger toward them. Without waiting for any kind of response, he turned on his heel and went after Korra.

The soldiers didn't follow them. The attempted shake down obviously wasn't legal, otherwise they wouldn't have let such an insult against them slide. Not to say that they wouldn't let it slide, they'd just wait to have their vengeance when their superiors weren't watching them.

"Did you really have to provoke them like that?" Korra asked, turning her head so that Han could fully see her face. The archer simply gave her a sheepish smile, one which she didn't return. They have to watch their backs from here until they reached the next village so that the soldiers didn't sneak up on them and leave them gutted along the side of the road.

* * *

For as long as she could remember, Asami Sato had always been testing boundaries. Be it pushing her parents to the edge of sanity with her behavior, or the thrill that came with fighting an opponent, she was always testing in some way. Right now, for instance, she was doing both.

In Imperial City, there were two kinds of arenas. One sanctioned by the state, and one that wasn't. The main gladiator arena was set up along the coast line. It was well funded, well maintained, drew in fighters and spectators from all over the Empire, and was relatively safe assuming you weren't fighting. In the Arena, even if you lost there was still a chance you could walk away with your life. Then there was underground fighting, of which there were a few rings hidden around the city. While technically illegal, the local law enforcement didn't put much effort into shutting them down. Once you set foot in the building, you were taking your life into your own hands. The spectators were routy and bloodthirsty enough that they were likely to knife each other over the slightest provocation. Then there was the ring itself. Once two fighters set foot inside, the match wasn't over until one or both of them lay either immobile or dead, period.

It was the later of these two entertainment centers that Asami often found herself sneaking into. At first, it had just been to satisfy a curiosity. But then, she'd discovered that she had a natural talent at fighting, and she often found herself entering a few low level matches just to see how far she could push herself. The ring was a far better teacher than any sort of instructor.

Throwing her fist forward, Asami watched and felt as it slammed into the jaw of her opponent, a young woman just a year or so older than her. The young woman reeled back from the blow, a spray of blood and a tooth flying from her open mouth. She fell to the floor of the ring, and Asami stood over her with her fists at the ready. A weak attempt was made by the fighter to get back to her feet, but her strength gave out and she passed out face down in the ring.

"Your winner!" the referee declared, grabbing Asami's hand and holding it aloft. People yelled in both delight and disappointment as money was passed back and forth. Asami remained silent. She wasn't in it for the winning purse, or the roar of the crowd, she was here to test herself. If she could best some of the nastiest fighters the Imperial City underground had to offer, she could do anything.

Leaving the ring, Asami made her way back to the room that was designated as the woman's changing room. To call it a locker room, or even a bathroom would have been an honor it didn't deserve. It was dirty, covered with grime and other bits of matter she didn't even want to know about. A single mirror, the only one in the room, was cracked like someone had punched it in frustration, or slammed a head against it in a fight. The sink it hung over was covered with rust and grime, and didn't even work.

She looked at her reflection in the cracked glass and frowned. There was a bruise and a few cuts on her face. An extra layer of makeup would have to be applied in the morning in order to keep her father from noticing. With a sigh, she began to change out of her fighting clothes and into her regular ones.

It wasn't easy maintaining this double life. By day, she was the heiress to one of the most powerful and influential companies in the Empire, and thus was expected to act as such. She was to be prim and proper, an example of wealth and nobility for all those in lower social classes to look up to. The problem was, none of that was Asami.

She loved to tinker, to take things apart in order to find out just what made a thing work before putting it back together again. She loved to push her boundaries, to find out just what exactly she was capable of before trying to expand them even further. And, she loved the thrill and rush that came with danger. If she wasn't doing an underground fight, she was joyriding in one of her father's delivery vehicles or something else of equal risk and danger.

With another sigh, Asami left the underground ring and began the trip back to her day life, silently hopeful that something would change and offer her a way out of the vicious cycle of whiplash that her life had become.

* * *

Tonraq stood behind the iron bars of the gate that sat at the entrance to the Arena, watching the match that was currently taking place with a somewhat morbid curiosity. Ever since he had been brought here to Imperial City, he'd heard stories amongst his fellow prisoners of a fighter clad in gray metal armor who bought death to all that they faced. Now he watched, as said fighter took on two others in a battle to the death.

"That's the Iron Maiden," came a voice to his left. Tonraq looked to the source of the voice and found a young man standing beside him. He was well built, with black hair and pale green eyes. But he was young, much to young to be in this Arena, at least according to Tonraq's beliefs anyway. He appeared to be about fifteen or sixteen, just a little younger than his daughter.

"That's a woman?" he asked, both surprised and impressed. From this distance, the armor made it impossible to tell what gender the wearer was.

"She's the only fighter in the Arena to be undefeated," the young man said with a nod, wincing as the fighter in the ring snapped a cable from her armor like a whip. She snagged one of her opponents around the neck with it before dragging him in and impaling him with a blade extended from her free arm.

"Quite the fighter," Tonraq noted as she freed her blade from her opponent and let him fall into the sand. The crowd was roaring with approval, eagerly awaiting more.

"She use to be the leader of a rebel group. But the Empire threw her in here for execution, and she's staved off death each time," the young man said, watching as the Iron Maiden turned to face her final opponent, snapping her cable as she waited for him to make a move.

"What's your name?" Tonraq asked, sparing a glance toward the boy before returning his attention to the fight. He needed to have an idea of her fighting style, should he wind up having to face her.

"Bolin."

"Aren't you a little young to be in here, Bolin?" he asked. In the Arena, the fighter raised his shield before balancing his sword against the edge of it, his eyes never leaving his opponent. The Iron Maiden suddenly bounded forward, snapping her cable and catching his shield. With a yank, she had torn it free from his grasp.

"There is no age limit for benders," Bolin replied glumly as the woman parried a sword swing from her opponent, knocking him off balance. Before he could recover, she reversed her arm and swung a wide arc, removing his head from his shoulders and sending it flying across the Arena. The crowd went wild as the now decapitated body fell into the sand, leaving the armored figure as the last person standing.

"You're from one of the Water Tribes right?" Bolin asked.

"Yes. And it's a place I intend to return to when I am free of this place," Tonraq answered.

"There is no freedom from this place. There is only death in the Arena," Bolin said solemnly.

"Surely there is a way to earn one's freedom from this place."

"The only way to freedom is beyond the Iron Maiden. And all paths end with her," he said. They both watched as the figure made it's way over the severed head and stabbed it with her blade before holding it aloft for all the crowd to see. Tonraq steeled his resolve at that sight. If the only way to breathe free, to see his daughter again was to go through this fighter before him, he would kill her a hundred times over to do it.

By the spirits and the gods, he would be free again.

 **And cut. Not much overall, but a lot of character introduction, which is important. Remember to review and PM, ask questions, or just state what you liked or didn't like about it. And with that, I'll see you all next time.**


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